


A Completely Closet Case

by LSPrincess



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Amanda's Merciless, Bisexual Todd Brotzman, Bisexuality, Dirk's Uneducated, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Todd's in Denial, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 05:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSPrincess/pseuds/LSPrincess
Summary: Toddwasn’t. Gay.So being locked in a closet with Dirk due to their foolish decision to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with the rest of the party attendees wasn’t going to be a problem. They could sit in there and talk — they could talk for seven minutes, who was going to stop them?So, being trapped with Dirk in a rather spacious closet filled with plenty of boxes to sit on and dusty bed dressings to swaddle in wasn’t the worst thing that could happen — it could actuallybeseven minutes in heaven, right? Right.





	A Completely Closet Case

Todd wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. Girls? He adored them. Tits? Fantastic. Curves? Heavenly. An ass he could grab? Fucking _amazing._ Supple skin he could trail his fingers over, dark, rich hair he could whisper into? _Yes._

Girls were his thing.

So, based off of this very _sound_ information, he was _not_ attracted to Dirk. Dirk was a dude. And Todd was _not_ gay.

Yes, Dirk did scream like a girl, hit like a girl, throw like a girl, run like a girl, pamper himself like a girl, and maybe just _sometimes_ he _dressed_ like a girl (Don’t ask. Todd caught him _once_ in heels and makeup and jewelry with his nails painted — he thought it easier to blame Amanda instead of questioning it.) But he wasn’t _attracted_ to the guy — specifically for that reason. He was a guy.

And Todd _wasn’t. Gay._

So being locked in a closet with Dirk due to their foolish decision to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with the rest of the party attendees (which included the merciless Rowdy 3 and their cruel leader Amanda, Farah, Tina, and Hobbs, with Bart and Mona observing) wasn’t going to be a problem. They could sit in there and talk — they could talk for seven minutes, who was going to stop them? Hell, they’d talked for _longer_ than seven minutes before (specifically that one time Todd had given Dirk a cappuccino and hadn’t heard the end of it for the next _four hours_ ) and in worse places _(I’m talking about you, one-person stall at the aquarium.)_

So, being trapped with Dirk in a rather spacious closet filled with plenty of boxes to sit on and dusty bed dressings to swaddle in wasn’t the _worst_ thing that could happen — it could actually _be_ seven minutes in heaven, right? Right.

Wrong.

Once they’d begrudgingly stepped inside, egged on by the over-enthusiastic cheers of their condemners, Todd had swiftly realized that the closet was not as roomy as it had first appeared, and that there was rather an _abundance_ of boxes, which wouldn't necessarily be a problem if the shelves above them weren't so low that Todd would quite literally have to be two feet tall to be able to sit beneath them. There were racks of clothes on either side of the closet (which was about seven feet across, Todd estimated) and a naked light bulb suspended just a few feet above their heads. Todd reached up to pull the frayed string that was hanging down from it but froze immediately at Amanda’s sharp tone coming from just outside the door.

“Todd, _lights. Off._ I know you've played this before,” she ordered, leaning against the door frame. Dirk turned back to look at her, inching closer to the back wall, and even in the dim lighting, Todd could make out the nervous expression on his face.

“Well, _I_ haven’t played this before,” Dirk remarked, giving the cozy space a cursory glance, “and I’d rather like to know why it has to be so…dark? And why we have to be in such a _hellishly_ stuffy space.”

“I can answer both of those questions in one, Dirk,” Amanda said, looking a little too pleased with herself — she had been the one to draw the names, after all. “Privacy.”

Dirk scoffed and looked around at the crowded shelves and hangers, dragging his eyes up to scrutinize the little hatch in the ceiling and the cobwebs in the corner. “What do we need _privacy_ for, we’re just talking,” Dirk said, and Todd felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was glad he and Dirk were on the same page.

“Yeah, uh-huh, okay, right,” Amanda mumbled, a fusillade of bitter affirmatives. “We’ll leave you guys to it — hell, we’ll even go make drinks. Once I shut the door, the time starts, okay?”

Todd glowered at the brunette, her smug grin making his stomach turn, and nodded sharply. She was right — he’d played this before. And doing it again was making him remember what a nerve-racking time that had been, when he’d been forced into a closet with one of the hottest girls on campus, Amanda giving him her “Go get ‘em” wink and saying, “When I shut the door, the time starts.”

The last thing he _wanted_ right now was a bad dose of déjà vu, because that may lead to him doing to Dirk what he had done to that girl, and that would be _wrong_ because he wasn’t gay. However, he figured it would bring up something fun for them to talk about, and so when the door shut and cut off their only light source and the giggling outside commenced, he blew out a breath and sank onto the floor.

Dirk mirrored him, sitting against the other wall of boxes, their knees to their chests and their toes touching. It was unnecessarily cramped and disorganized, and for some reason, Todd got the feeling some of the girls had schemed together and loaded it up with extra junk just to give them less wiggle room.

“Amanda was right,” Todd said vaguely, leaning his head back against the Tupperware container behind him. When Dirk gave him an encouraging look, he clarified, “When she said I’d done this before.”

Dirk’s back straightened, the upper half of his face extending past Todd’s eye-level and consequently causing Dirk’s own eyes to become shrouded in shadow. It might have been sexy…if Todd were gay.

“Oh. Um…when? Where? With whom?” Dirk asked, his face suddenly as animated as it became when he explained how he’d solved a case.

Todd allowed himself a short laugh at Dirk’s immediate questioning, and scratched the back of his head, pretending to be thinking. Such a deep level of reminiscence was unnecessary, considering the memory had ultimately worked its way to the very forefronts of his mind.

“In college,” he finally confessed, letting his hand drop back to his knees. “I was a freshman, it was a little party with some of my friends — some of who would later become the members of Mexican Funeral — and some other…people,” he said, the image of the tall, lean girl he’d been paired with clouding his thought process for a moment. Clouding it so thickly, he realized, that he hadn’t heard Dirk when he spoke, so he blinked erratically and embarrassedly asked him to the repeat the question.

“Who’d you get stuck with?” was what Dirk had asked. Ironic Todd should miss such a question when thinking about just that.

“This…volleyball player — her name was Marissa Dotton, and she was…I mean,” Todd said, forcing a dry laugh and extending his arm above his head to exaggerate how tall she was. “She was stunning. Lean, pale, kind of reddish hair, blue…eyes…freckles…”

Dirk tilted his head slightly, furrowing his brows in an unspoken question as Todd trailed off, his blue eyes glinting in the dark, a strand of reddish hair falling down into his face — his _pale_ face, so pale he looked almost ethereal in the darkness, that hauntingly celestial complexion combatted only by the soft dusting of freckles over his cheeks.

“She had this…”

Dirk’s lean arms flexed as he hugged his legs closer, leaning forward intently as Todd tried to continue his description.

_Think of something, think of anything!_

“Her nose,” he said, his words breaking around a squeak, which he controlled with a soft cough. “Her nose, she had this uh…h-her…it was crooked, kind of, where it had been broken before…”

Dirk tilted his head again, and the shadows darkened around his nose, drawing to attention how it was crooked just slightly, the bridge askew where it had been broken before.  

Come on, come on, there had to be _something_ that was different!

“A-And her…her ears…”

Nope.

“Well, her eyelashes, they were…”

Try again.

“And her fingers, she had these long, thin…”

_No._

“And she had this ridiculous sense of style, really quirky, bright clothes…”

Why had he even _tried_ that?

“Todd, are you…okay?” Dirk asked softly, leaning forward and pulling his hand away from his leg as if he meant to touch Todd, then quickly thought against it and instead gestured dumbly in Todd’s direction. “You’re not…finishing your sentences.”

Well. “Yeah, I’m fine, Dirk,” Todd replied, noting the presence of the sweat that was prickling at his hairline.

“Oh. Well, that’s good!” Dirk’s smile. Hell, even their _smiles_ were similar. “I had begun to worry our unfortunate accommodations were having an even _more_ unfortunate effect on your…well…” Dirk smiled shyly, shrugging slightly. “You know.”

Yeah, he knew. And he was thankful that Dirk was watching out for him, but the fact that they couldn't have a simple conversation in a closet without someone worrying he was going to burst into flames or start drowning or being crushed tugged at his heart in ways he hadn’t expected.

“Yeah I’m…I’m fine, just…reminiscing.”

“On Marissa.”

Todd looked up at that, at that bitter, almost accusatory, almost _dejected_ tone of Dirk’s voice, and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. On Marissa.”

“She sounds lovely, Todd,” Dirk said with a polite smile, his own eyes narrow from the exaggerated stretch of his mouth. To the guy’s credit, Dirk _had_ gotten better at controlling his expressions, and if Todd hadn’t known Dirk, he suspected he might have fallen for that bright smile. But (unfortunately) he _did_ know Dirk, and so he could see right through him at a time like this, even in the low light of the closet. He could see it in the way Dirk’s lips tightened, in the way the muscles in his jaw twitched, in the way that his smile didn’t stretch far enough to bring out the lovely little wrinkles around his eyes. He could see it in the stiffness of his posture, in the way his hands tightened around his knees, in the way he kept his head perfectly level with Todd’s — when Dirk normally smiled, he had a tendency to move his head around a lot, tilting it to the side or turning it up to the sky.

“She was,” Todd said quietly, lowering his gaze. Yes, she had been lovely. She _was_ lovely, in the ways Todd remembered her. But she was also a narcissistic, controlling, manipulative bitch that slept around and couldn't maintain relationships. Since he’d actually taken the time to talk about it, he realized that he _hadn’t_ found her lovely back then. Sure, she was pretty, but she wasn’t the kind of thing he was attracted to. He’d liked curvier girls, nerdier girls ( _alternative_ girls, too), more… _relaxed_ girls, girls that wouldn't disappear every night to throw a ball back and forth.

Really, he hadn’t exactly been with girls at all back then. He’d been too busy maintaining a lie, ruining his life, founding and destroying a band. They’d had the occasional fan, but no one Todd was actually interested in forming a relationship with.

And he certainly hadn’t been interested in forming a relationship with Marissa. He realized now that he only found her attractive because he had found someone similar to her, in all the best ways.

But he wasn’t _attracted_ to Dirk. What was there to be attracted to? Those bright, icy eyes? That head of gorgeous red hair? That perfectly pale skin, dotted with freckles like constellations in a night sky? Those toned arms and legs of his? That long neck? Those full lips? The proud way he held himself, the delicate curve of his—

Goddammit. Now he couldn't control his gaze as it raked down Dirk’s body, scrutinizing every feature he thought of, starting at the top of his head and working all the way down to his bent knees, and he hadn’t realized until he’d forced himself to stop that he’d kind of sort of maybe just a little bit been undressing Dirk in his mind.

Also, goddammit, he _really_ needed to start answering Dirk’s questions the first time around.

“Sorry, what?” he’d said softly, gently encouraging Dirk to repeat his question. Though his friend gave a little eye roll, he didn’t seem too upset about being ignored again.

“I _said,_ what did you talk about? With Marissa?”

Oh. Well…right…Dirk had never played Seven Minutes in Heaven before…

“Oh, um…well, we uh, we didn’t really, uh…talk,” Todd stammered, rubbing the back of his neck and hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn’t too obvious. Or the growing erection in his pants. Because he couldn't stop remembering that day, but instead of Marissa he was with a _man,_ a man who was three inches taller than him and moaning against his lips as Todd pinned him against the wall, clenching his fists around his thin button-down shirt and untucking it from his pants and shoving his leather jacket off of his shoulders, and god _dammit…_

…Todd was gay for Dirk.

Dirk raised his eyebrows expectantly, obviously awaiting further explanation without having to prompt Todd, but when he received no such elaboration, he shrugged, and the squeak of his leather made Todd’s stomach clench strangely with desire.

“So? What did you do?”

Todd blew out a shaky breath and jerked his arm up to his face, staring intensely at his watch until he could make out the small numbers printed there. They had about four minutes left. For some reason, that sent a pang of fear through Todd’s heart, and his entire body thrummed with eager electricity. He could spend about a minute (or more, depending on the line of questioning that would undoubtedly follow) explaining, or…

“Hey, Dirk, I wanna try something,” Todd said, lowering his arm and violently rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs.

Dirk seemed to brighten at this, then slumped back with uncertainty.

“But I wanna know—”

“I’ll show you,” Todd promised absentmindedly, clutching his shaking hands behind the barrier of his thighs, concealing them from Dirk’s view. “Can I try something?”

Dirk’s face lit up again, and he gave an enthusiastic nod. “Of course, Todd!”

“With you?” Todd added hesitantly.

“Of course!”

“And you won’t freak out?”

Dirk shrank back slightly, quirking an eyebrow dubiously, his dizzying excitement dwindling a little. “Sure?”

“And if it goes badly, you won’t speak of it ever again?”

“...I’ll…try?”

Todd exhaled sharply. That was good enough. That was probably about as good as it was gonna get, and he raked his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay…”

“Todd, if you’re really so stressed about trying this _thing,_ then maybe you shouldn't—”

“No, I want to,” Todd assured without opening his eyes. “I really want to.”

Dirk’s encouraging smile returned, and he gave Todd a supportive nod, the kind you might get from your parents when you say you’d like to try out for a certain sport or other miscellaneous extracurricular activities.

Todd forced himself to his knees in the cramped space, and he was already almost hovering over Dirk. Dirk went to stand up, too, but Todd held out a hand to stop him.

“No, it’s…it’s okay, it’s fine if I’m the only one moving,” he said, trying not to notice just how shaky his own voice was.

“Oh,” Dirk said, his brow furrowing curiously, but the smile returned before Todd could let that expression sink in. “Okay!”

Should he have Dirk close his eyes? It would probably be easier if he closed his eyes. But a part of Todd didn’t want him to close his eyes, he wanted to see the emotion in them as he inevitably leaned in. But what if saw fear there? Uncertainty? Rejection?

That would kill him.

“Do you…want _me_ to do anything?” Dirk asked, his fingers drumming impatiently on his knees.

“Uh,” Todd drawled, scratching his head. “Do you want to like…close your eyes?”

Dirk frowned. “Do I _want_ to? Well, Todd, I don’t really know what we’re _doing_ —”

“Just…close your eyes…I guess? Please?” They were running out of time.

Dirk blinked up at Todd stupidly for a moment before smiling slightly and letting his eyes flutter closed — which, yet _again,_ inexplicably sent a bolt of arousal straight through Todd’s stomach.

What was he doing? He was crazy — _this_ was crazy! This was his best friend, this was a _closet_ — they were talking comfortably just a few moments ago! What changed? Who’d lit a match under Todd’s ass and inspired him to work up enough courage to hover over Dirk like this, to be leaning in so slowly, to be reaching forward with shaking hands and cupping Dirk’s face, watching his eyes fly open in alarm and listening to him breathe Todd’s name before their lips were pressed together—

Holy shit, _their lips were pressed together._ They were _kissing,_ and Dirk was…stiff as a board, his shoulders up to his ears, his eyes wide. Todd pulled away slightly and swore under his breath.

“Shit, Dirk, I’m sorry—”

But he couldn't finish that sentence because Dirk was grabbing the back of his head and forcing him back down, violently smashing their lips together and startling a moan out of Todd, which made Dirk’s entire body tremble. He involuntarily broke away from the kiss and let out a shaky sigh, one that sounded an awful lot like Todd’s name, and fuck it, how was Todd supposed to deal with _that?_ Well, it may have been from the sense of urgency the faint ticking of his watch gave him, or the sheer desire the erection straining against his jeans gave him, but he dealt with it by weaving his fingers into Dirk’s hair and quite literally trying to lick his name from the other man’s mouth. The reaction was better than Todd could have hoped for, with Dirk moaning against his tongue and arching into his touch, bringing their bodies together and freeing up enough space for Todd to circle his arm around him, pulling him closer and keeping him there.

_“Todd,”_ Dirk whimpered, wrapping his arms around Todd’s shoulders and tilting his head back, giving Todd really the best angle to latch onto his neck.

Which is exactly what he did. Which is exactly what Dirk seemed to have _wanted_ because he was shivering again and fisting his hand in Todd’s hair, tugging on it when Todd would nip at the bruise he was making.

Todd pulled Dirk as close as he could manage in their awkward position, finally settling with having Dirk somewhat in his lap and holding him there with his arms wrapped around his back, one of them angled vertically so he could take a fistful of Dirk’s hair. Dirk responded to the new position by wrapping his legs around Todd’s hips, and there were no words to describe how grateful Todd was for that.

As he tugged Dirk’s jacket and tie off and ripped the first few buttons of his shirt open to gain access to his clavicle (which Dirk reacted to by quite literally spasming — _Christ_ he was so responsive), he realized the position actually wasn’t too terrible, and wasn’t as physically straining as he would have imagined. In fact, if he were to just grip Dirk’s hip and hold him in place, he could quite effectively grind against him—

_“Todd,”_ Dirk groaned again when Todd tested his theory, and God shit _fuck_ he was _not_ stopping that anytime soon.

That is, he would have _liked_ to have not stopped that if the door to the closet hadn’t abruptly been yanked open. They both screamed like teenagers, collapsing at an awkward angle which resulted in Todd on his back and his legs twisted beneath him and Dirk lying on top of him, his shirt still slightly unbuttoned, and both of them with wide eyes, messy hair, and flushed faces as they stared up dumbly at Amanda’s triumphant silhouette.

They were all silent for a long time before Amanda snorted and flipped her hair. “Just talking my _ass.”_

The flood of voices behind her begging to “let them see” and to “get out of their way” or “move over” was enough to make Todd and Dirk grasp the reality of the situation and start fighting to disentangle themselves from each other, but the close proximity they were trapped in thanks to the clutter of boxes made it almost virtually impossible.

When Farah and Tina’s faces appeared over Amanda’s shoulders, Todd suddenly understood why there was so much goddamn clutter in the room.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still coming out of a writer's block, but I hope this is okay and sufficiently enjoyable! I had the idea to do something like this about two days ago, but what with exams and stuff, I haven't really had the time. Also I've never played Seven Minutes in Heaven??? So thank you for bearing with me.


End file.
